


That Renfaire Life

by PepperF



Series: Diego whump [20]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Crack-ish, F/M, Fluff, I didn't really stick exhaustively to Proper History, Time Travel, Whumptober 2020, actual historical content, but look up the Paston family they're real and fascinating, diego in a codpiece, idgaf if that's authentic or not it's happening, kind of, snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-20
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:48:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27119092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PepperF/pseuds/PepperF
Summary: Diego and the rest of the Umbrella Academy are absolutely, definitely not employed by the Commission. Honestly, they're lucky the Commission hasn't sent assassins after them (not that they couldn't handle it, obviously, but it would be a pain), so actually having any kind of formal agreement between them is just never going to happen. But sometimes they do...favors.The Commission seems to prefer Diego for these assignments, to his not-at-all-secret satisfaction.
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves/Lila Pitts
Series: Diego whump [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951318
Comments: 8
Kudos: 45
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	That Renfaire Life

**Author's Note:**

> Forever thanks to Bethany for making these better. :D

So it turns out that the Commission can time travel. Like, _actually_ time travel.

"So why just, you know—the fifties, the sixties, the present?"

"Budget constraints," says Herb, glumly. "I mean, can you imagine the cost of having to supply agents with costumes and equipment for the whole of time? Not to mention the storage space that would require! Administration costs alone were way outside budget. And the sign-out process..." He shakes his head, like a man who has Seen Things. "So we mostly stick to the twentieth and twenty-first centuries. You can get away with a nice suit and a briefcase for most of them."

"Huh," says Diego, who has never before considered the financial implications of overseeing all of time. "You guys couldn't just invest somewhere, put a little nest egg down, go forward fifty years and—"

"Mr. Hargreeves, we are trying to preserve the timeline, not destroy it!"

"Okay, okay! It was just a thought."

"Anyhow, here's your codpiece. Good luck."

\---

Diego and the rest of the Umbrella Academy are absolutely, definitely not employed by the Commission. Honestly, they're lucky the Commission hasn't sent assassins after them (not that they couldn't handle it, obviously, but it would be a pain), so actually having any kind of formal agreement between them is just never going to happen. But sometimes they do...favors. 

The Commission seems to prefer Diego for these assignments, to his not-at-all-secret satisfaction. He was there for all of a day, but that's still more than his siblings, who have consistently refused to step foot in the place—and better than Five, who on the plus side spent years as a Commission employee, but on the minus side massacred their entire Board of Directors.

Diego is also maybe more willing to be helpful because—well, because of the whole Lila situation. They're not _not_ together, exactly, but...sometimes she's there, and sometimes she's not, and it's kind of difficult to state for certain that you have a girlfriend when she's living out of a briefcase and never stops in the actual space and time in which you exist for more than a day at a time. The Commission seems to be holding fire on her—Herb's influence again, Diego is pretty sure. So far, she hasn’t caused any trouble. All she's done is time-hop. She's probably got a lot of shit to figure out, Diego assumes, so he's not pushing. He's just hoping that someday she'll come home to stay.

So, yeah, anyway. Time travel. That's now a factor in his life.

\---

He's found accommodation in a tavern in London, and it's kinda cool. He's never been overseas before, and this is about what he was half-expecting Britain to be like. Not, like, _really_ , but—the horses and fancy clothes and all that shit are weirdly satisfying. The food is terrible (which, again...kind of saw that coming), and the manners are a lot rougher than he'd expected. But they serve beer for breakfast, and he gets to wear a sword, so it could be worse. 

He's here, apparently, to resolve a dispute between the Paston family and the Duke of Norfolk, in the Paston's favor. When he first started doing missions, he'd asked Herb or Dot for explanations as to what he was doing and what effect it would have—but after sitting through a couple of completely fucking incomprehensible presentations and emerging with nothing more than a headache, he decided that a) he trusted them, and b) he wasn't gonna understand it anyway. So: he's here to help the Pastons. 

Anyhow, the Duke is kind of an asshole. He's trying to claim ownership of their house and lands, which John Paston is fighting in the courts, while Margaret Paston bravely holds the fort back at home. According to John—who's pretty chatty once you get a drink or two into him—she's literally holding the fort, armed guards and fighting off raids and all. She's sent her husband a shopping list in her most recent letter, asking for caps for the baby and as many pikeheads as John can afford. Diego hasn't met her yet, but he likes her on principle. He figures if he can't get it fixed at this end soon, he's going to head up to Norfolk, wherever that is, and try bashing in a few heads. Fixing history isn't always that complicated, it turns out.

The one thing he's not getting used to, though, is the hose. It's taken him three tries today to get the damn things on straight, and they still don't feel right. He's considering whether to take them off and start again when there's a knock at his door.

And, outside, is Lila. 

He stares for a good while, just drinking her in. He hasn’t seen her in a few weeks, and the sight of her is like a club to the head, every time, knocking him back with how much he's missed her and how _fucking glad_ he is to see her.

Plus, what she's wearing...wow. It's just yards and yards of wine-dark velvet, topped with a puffy little blouse thing that's cut way too low for his sanity, and he's never been into fancy costumes or anything, but...holy _shit_.

A groan catches his attention, and he looks over her shoulder to see the landlord, who is lying on the floor, clutching his arm.

"He called me 'dusky maiden'."

Ah. Self-inflicted, then. 

"You'd better come in." He closes the door behind her, and leans back on it, crossing his arms. "How'd you find me?"

"Herb told me where you were. He's my friend too," she adds, defensively, when he raises his eyebrows.

"I know, I know—I'm just surprised to see you on a mission, is all."

"I'm not on a mission. I'm just here to sightsee." She gives him a lascivious once-over, lingering on his hose. "And what a sight I'm seeing."

Diego grins, and unfolds his arms, pushing off from the door. If there's one thing he's learned with Lila, it's not to waste time with unimportant shit. "Hey," he says, once he's gotten his arms around her. Damn, she feels good.

"Hey, you," she replies, relaxing against him. She glances back at the bed. "I've never had medieval sex before."

"Oh, it's just like regular sex," he tells her. "'Cept with more 'thee's and 'thou's—and the chanting, of course."

She smirks. "Is that right?"

"One way to find out..."

\---

Another thing he'll never get used to in this time period, as well as the hose, is that disputes are about equally as likely to be settled with lawyers or with armed combat. Still, it's kind of fun.

"If this is your 'mid-evil', I might be too scared to see your 'full evil', Sir Diego," puffs Hal, the squire assigned to help him, as he runs up.

"Medieval, I said I was gonna get _medieval_ on his—never mind," sighs Diego. "Look, this isn't working for me, okay? Hold this." He hands the flail (just like the one he'd trained with as a kid) to the boy. "I need to be able to move." The other knight had been remarkably light on his feet, all things considered, and any advantages Diego might have in general training was being negated by his lack of familiarity with doing this in a fucking tin can. And the fact that he can't risk using his power in case they decide to burn him as a witch, of course.

He's scrabbling for the buckles on his armor when he feels Lila's fingers over his, and he moves to let her take care of the ones he can't reach. "You know that everything he owns is covered in spikes, right?" she points out, deftly undoing the chest piece as he works on the vambraces. Hal kneels to tackle the greaves.

"I know."

"The only thing that's not covered in spikes is his bloody great sword."

"I know."

"He's basically a walking death trap."

"I _know_."

"So you better be sure about this," she says, tugging the sheet of metal off over his head.

"I won't let him touch me," he tells her, and leans down to kiss her. Lila responds with completely inappropriate fervor, and Diego decides, _fuck this_.

Eventually, Hal clears his throat. "Sir Diego? Sir? I think your opponent is waiting," he says, a shade reproachfully.

"Yeah, yeah," grumbles Diego, giving Lila a last kiss. "Hold that thought," he tells her.

"Don't die," she retorts.

\---

"You never listen to instructions," Lila pants.

"Shoulda seen...the other guy," he responds.

"I did see the other guy, are you concussed or just stupid? And he's very dead, congrats, but you weren't supposed to let him take you out while you were at it. I was very clear."

"Didn't see it coming," he groans. He really should have known better, but honestly, he'd thought the guy was done for—he hadn't expected that last, wild swipe of the flail as he fell. He caught the brunt of it on his ribs, and he wasn't wearing armor so of course it tore right through.

Lila and Hal dump him on the bed in the tent they'd been assigned. She pulls open his shirt, and grimaces. "Okay, fuck this," she says. "Hal, go fetch water."

"Yes, mistress!"

Hal is gone in seconds, and Lila gets up after him to close the tent flap. Then she uncovers a familiar boxy shape that was tucked under some cushions.

"If I let the doctors here treat you, you're going to die covered in leeches," she says, decisively. "Hold on." She wraps one arm around him, pressing him to her chest, and reaches for the briefcase buttons with the other.

"But what about—"

And in a flash, they're home. _Home_ home, in fact—he recognizes the familiar tiled floor on which he's lying, and the wooden staircase. Lila takes a second to look around and take stock, and then yells, "Help! Someone, help!"

\---

"So this is your mum. Your robot mum," she adds.

"Yes," says Diego, daring her to make something of it. But Lila just goes back to biting her thumbnail and watching, wide-eyed and wary, as Grace works away with the antiseptic and gauze and bandages.

"It's lovely to meet you at last, Lila," says Mom, as she works. "I've heard so much about you."

Lila's eyebrows lift, and she glares at Diego. "Oh, really?"

"Oh yes," says Mom, and this is the kind of shit that makes him believe that she's not just a robot, because she shoots him a teasing glance as he tries desperately to remember _what the fuck_ he's said. "All good things," she assures Lila—and thankfully leaves it at that.

"Huh." Lila leans back against the table. She doesn't seem to know what else to say, and Diego will take that for the mercy it is.

When Mom has finished, she pats Diego's knee. "There we go, all better. You can get Lila to help you to your room, can't you dear?"

"Yeah. Thanks, Mom." He brushes a kiss to her cheek and hops down off the table. 

Lila ducks under his arm—ostensibly to support him, but if he didn't know better, he'd think she was acting almost shy. "Thanks, Mrs. Hargreeves."

"Please, call me Grace," she says, with a warm smile. "Go on, now. Oh, Lila?"

"Yes?"

"Do you like waffles?"

Lila pauses, and then her face lightens with a smile so heartbreakingly tentative that Diego has to look away. "Yes. Yes, I love waffles."

"Wonderful. Come down when you get hungry, and I'll make some for you."

Lila helps him out with an arm around his waist, and he directs them wordlessly towards his room. At the top of the stairs, Lila says, thoughtfully, "Must be nice."

"Huh?"

"Having a mum like that. Someone you can rely on."

"Yeah, she's the best," agrees Diego. "And she liked you, I could tell."

"She did?"

"Oh, for sure." Lila doesn't seem to know how to respond to this, so he changes the subject. "This is my room."

Lila opens the door and looks around, sizing up the room that had seemed much bigger and less messy when he was a kid. "Cute."

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up."

She helps him gently down onto the twin bed, and then ruins the Florence Nightingale effect by shoving him roughly towards the wall. "Scoot up, come on." But he doesn't mind at all, not when she squeezes in alongside him, head on his shoulder, one arm wrapped around him. He lets go of a sigh, and closes his eyes. He needs a shower, and some food—but it can wait. He just needs five minutes' shuteye...

"I've never been introduced to someone's mum before," says Lila, softly.

"Well, now we're even," he says, already half asleep.

"You stink."

"Yeah, yeah. Love you, too."

There's a long silence from Lila, and if she responds, he's asleep before he can hear it.


End file.
